


Repercussions

by greenwillow



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Early 20th Century, Co-workers, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwillow/pseuds/greenwillow
Summary: After working with him for two years, Alfred is nearly used to the trouble Uhtred will cause in a day. This time, however, Uhtred has outdone himself.
Relationships: Alfred the Great & Osferth (The Last Kingdom), Alfred the Great/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Repercussions

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a tumblr ficlet for @tsukkinami No-Canon November on tumblr: I rolled Alfred + Detective + Drama + Powerful

Alfred caught a whiff of cigarette smoke—how he loathed the smell—as soon as he entered the hallway. That could mean only one thing. He double-checked his watch. It was certainly unusual for Uhtred to have started his workday at half-past eight. They must have taken on a new case overnight. With any luck, it would prove more lucrative and less chaotic than the last one his self appointed partner had accepted. 

The soft glow of the lamp in their shared office was just visible through the door’s frosted glass panel. Not a day went by that Alfred did not regret giving Uhtred that set of keys. With a sigh he entered the room, expecting to find his partner tearing apart the filing system in search of a piece of information he could easily have just asked for. 

What he found was Uhtred sitting with his feet propped on Alfred’s desk, wearing his trademark shit-eating grin. 

“You’ll never guess what I’ve uncovered.”

“I have asked you not to do that. Move.”

“As you wish.”

Uhtred leapt to his feet and gestured to the now empty chair with a dramatic flourish. 

“You’ll want to be seated for this.”

“Are you putting in your notice?” Alfred asked dryly, shrugging off his coat. “Has one of my prayers finally been answered?” 

“Perhaps, I am not sure what else you pray for.”

It was then Alfred caught a glimpse of a third figure in the room and nearly jumped out of his skin. A young boy with shaggy blond hair and a rather nervous expression was waiting in the shadows behind the door. 

“Good heavens, who is this?”

The boy tentatively rose to his feet. 

“Good morning, sir.”

“Uhtred, what on earth—”

“He’s a little grumpy first thing in the morning,” Uhtred said to the boy. 

“Uhtred, I will not ask you to explain yourself again.”

The boy took a step forward, clutching his cap in one hand and extending the other. Alfred was sure he’d never seen him before, but there was something familiar about his eyes. 

“Apologies for the imposition, sir. My name is Osferth. I believe you knew my mother?”

Stunned beyond words, Alfred turned to Uhtred, who was beaming at him in the most irritating way.

“I told you you’d want to be seated for this.”

It had been years ago—twelve years, apparently—that he’d made that lapse in judgment. He’d considered it a minor lapse until now, even though he’d been studying to be a priest at the time.

Uhtred hadn’t known about his past indiscretions—how could he? They’d only known each other for four years and worked together for two. And as much as he had learned about Uhtred’s past (and present) partners, he had been careful to reveal much less about his own life.

The day Uhtred had wandered into his office with a piece of information about the Kensington case had been the beginning of the end, he’d known it even then.

Uhtred’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I expect he will say something sooner or later.”

“I will say something as soon as you tell me exactly what’s going on here,” Alfred replied, hoping his tone was acerbic enough to compensate for any visible shock on his face.

The boy was still standing before him, staring and wavering slightly on his feet. He was paler and thinner than Alfred had realized at first and clearly very nervous. Alfred's heart softened slightly as he looked at him. It wasn’t the boy’s fault Uhtred had dragged him here.

“You haven’t eaten this morning, have you?” he asked.

Osferth shook his head.

“Uhtred, get the boy something to eat. He looks famished.”

Uhtred raised his eyebrows. “You want me to leave the two of you?”

Alfred’s eyes snapped in his direction, and Uhtred raised his hands in a gesture of resignation and slipped away.

“Please,” Alfred gestured to the chair beside his desk, “make yourself comfortable.”

The boy took a seat on the edge of the chair, appearing ready to make a run for it at any moment.

“You’re at St. Christopher’s,” Alfred stated, gesturing to the scarlet patch on the boy’s jacket.

“Yes, sir.”

“How are your marks?”

“Fairly good, sir.”

“I am glad to hear that.” He cleared his throat, unsure how he was expected to proceed. “I expect we ought to talk. Do you know why you’re here?”

The boy tapped one foot on the floor nervously, his knee bobbing up and down. “Well, I had met Mr. Uhtred a few weeks back when he came to school—“  
“Who on earth invited him there?”

“Father Beocca did…he’s an alumnus, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but that’s no excuse,” Alfred sighed. “Continue.”

“Well sir, I had asked him if he had any advice for a boy who wants to go into the army, and we got to talking—“

“You want to go into the army?”

“Maybe, sir,” the boy flushed slightly. “I don’t know.”

Alfred cringed. It wasn't as if the boy had many options. He ought to be gentler. He would try.

“At any rate, after Mother died last week Father Beocca visited with Mr. Uhtred. Father B. said he might be able to find some family on my father’s side.”

Alfred’s stomach dropped. He recalled the verb tense the boy had used earlier, but it hadn’t registered until now.

“I’m very sorry to hear about your mother,” he said softly.

Osferth nodded appreciatively, his eyes wet with tears that he was doing his best to hold back.

“It’s alright. She was sick for a long time. And she’s with God now.”

“Yes, indeed,” Alfred said.

That was something. Uhtred’s influence had not completely corrupted him yet.

Alfred sat back in his chair and folded his hands before him.

“You do know why you’re here, I expect?”

“Well,” Osferth said a bit sheepishly, “I expect you know who my father is?”

He asked so eagerly it pulled at Alfred’s heartstrings despite himself.

“Your mother was a Ms. Constance Dashwood, I presume?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re how old?”

“Twelve, sir.”

Alfred’s calculations had been fairly accurate.

“And how did Uhtred…”

“There was a letter, sir.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Alfred relaxed. Uhtred had not become clairvoyant after all.

“Well, it appears you have found your father, after all, Osferth.”

The boy’s face broke into a wide smile just as Uhtred appeared at the end of the hall.

He poked his head into the office tentatively. Once he’d crossed the threshold without reprimand, Uhtred handed the boy a sandwich wrapped in brown paper from the cart up the street and placed a paper cup of tea on Alfred’s desk.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“No, but you’ll drink it.”

It wasn’t worth arguing over. Besides, he had wanted tea.

“Well, Osferth, I expect we ought to get to know each other,” Alfred said once the boy had finished his sandwich. “You’re not expected at school?”

“No, sir. Father Beocca told me I was to take the day.”

Uhtred had been creating the illusion of busyness at his desk to help fill the somewhat tense silence.

“The Royal Armories are open,” he interjected without looking up.

Alfred glanced back at Osferth. Perhaps he would enjoy that. Presumably, Uhtred did know the boy better at this point.

Osferth grew slightly paler and shrunk down in his chair. A less intimidating venture was preferable, then. The fortification of a cold sandwich could only do so much.

“Perhaps just a walk today,” Alfred suggested, and the boy relaxed.

“Don’t forget your scarf,” Uhtred said casually, adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses he wore to read small type. “It’s gotten colder since this morning.”

Alfred glanced over at him, hoping his look communicated “we will be talking later privately” and slipped his coat back on.

Uhtred had been right; the air was quite brisk. Osferth was doing his best to hide it, but the thin jacket he wore over his uniform was not sufficient against the chill.

Alfred directed them two streets over to a small menswear shop and purchased a wool overcoat for the boy. It was slightly oversized on his slim frame, but he would grow into it.

“You’re tall for your age,” Alfred said matter of factly as they left the shop.

“Yes, sir.”

“Must be on your mother’s side,” he joked quietly.

Osferth glanced up with surprise and smiled at him.

“Yes, sir. Her brother was quite tall.”

“Constance was a fine woman,” Alfred said. “I am truly very sorry to hear of her loss. Almost as sorry as I am to find I’ve been absent from your life this long.”

“She meant well, I think,” Osferth said, gaze fixed on the ground again. “Didn’t want to burden you.”

“Do you have the letter?” Alfred was unable to help himself from asking.

“Yes, if you’d like to read it. It’s back home.”

“Which way is that?”

“Stepney, sir.”

Even at an athletic pace, it would have taken far too long to walk to the East End, and streetcars were out of the question.

Alfred hailed a cab and they were on their way.

Their destination was a third floor rented room located between a bakeshop and what looked to be a brothel. It had two small windows (Alfred counted five cracked panes), but the room was as clean as it could be. A single bed graced one corner with a rather lumpy a cot beside it. A trunk lay open in the middle of the floor, half-filled with books and a few rough blankets.

“My aunt took most of Mother’s things already,” Osferth explained, lifting a corner of the mattress to retrieve the letter. “But she has five children of her own; they can’t afford to take me in.”

“Where will you live?” Alfred asked. He knew the type of landlord they must have, and generosity was not likely to be one of his more notable qualities.

“Father Beocca and his wife have offered to take me in.”

“That’s very kind of them.”

Osferth nodded and handed him the letter.

It was somewhat yellowed, apparently having been written several years ago.

Osferth pulled a rather rickety chair away from the small desk under the window.

“Here, sir.”

Rather than risk rudeness, Alfred sat gingerly and hoped the chair would not collapse into a pile of firewood beneath him. Osferth began to organize the contents of the trunk, and Alfred read.

He hadn’t seen Constance’s hand before, but it reminded him of her. Pretty in an unassuming way, quite neat with no unnecessary flourishes. The ink had run at parts, presumably from tears shed by either her or her son. That caused a knot to rise in Alfred’s chest which he suppressed as he cleared his throat and turned the page.

It was a good letter. To the point, affectionate but not overly sentimental. He read it over twice, then handed it back to Osferth. Of course, the boy would want to keep it.

“Father Beocca’s offer is very kind but it won’t be necessary. There is room in my house. If you’d like to live with me, that is.”

Osferth nearly dropped the book he’d been holding—Volume II of Gibbons’s Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire—but after a moment his surprise turned into shy excitement.

“You’re sure?”

Well, there was no going back now.

“Quite sure. Collect your things, and I will send a cab for you this evening. Is that suitable?”

Osferth was grinning now. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“I’ll have Uhtred call Father Beocca to notify him. When are you meant to return to school?”

“Thursday, sir.”

“Excellent. That gives us time to buy you a new uniform.”

Osferth glanced down to the gap between his pant legs and the top of his shoes. “I can have the hem let out, sir.”

“I promise you that is not within my skill set nor Uhtred’s.”

Osferth held back a laugh.

“Expect a car a six. I’ll have supper waiting.” Alfred touched his hat and exited, leaving Osferth smiling much too brightly for the place he was in.

* * *

“I would have appreciated a slight warning,” Alfred said caustically when he’d returned to the office.

“Next time I recover one of your bastard children I will be sure to give you notice,” Uhtred replied, licking the tip of his pencil and scratching something barely legible in a notebook.

Alfred rolled his eyes but chose to ignore the comment. “You’ve made progress on the Winslow case?”

“Nearly tracked down the missing funds. I should have it solved in another day, which means you will be free to fulfill your paternal duties.”

“It is extremely odd that you happened upon this information so conveniently, Uhtred.”

“Fate smiles on me,” Uhtred shrugged, picking up The Times. “Or perhaps it was all ordained by God as you believe. I am merely a pawn in the divine plan.”

Alfred shot him a scathing glance which went unnoticed.

“What time is supper?” Uhtred asked, turning a page of his newspaper.

“Half-past six, but you’re not invited.”

“Ah yes, I forgot you only have two chairs.”

“I simply wish to spend time with the boy apart from your corrupting influence.”

Uhtred laughed and turned another page.

“I’ve invited him to stay with me,” Alfred continued, despising the confessional tone of his admission. “The boy had nowhere else to go.”

Uhtred glanced up, his expression infuriatingly innocent.

“You’ve become quite the family man in the past several hours.”

“You’ve no-one but yourself to blame for that.”

“That’s not my understanding of the biological implications of parenthood, but I admit my marks in school were never very high.”

Alfred resisted the urge to laugh, though he could not keep a slight smirk from ghosting across his face.

“You may join us for supper Friday if Osferth agrees.”

Uhtred set down his paper, grinning. “Excellent.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, you can reblog the edit [here.](https://aadmelioraa.tumblr.com/post/635788187982331904/aadmelioraa-alfred-caught-a-whiff-of-cigarette)


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